


Reunited

by disdainfreely



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 19:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17607656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disdainfreely/pseuds/disdainfreely
Summary: Having fled the Decepticons, Starscream is determined to find his own ancient Autobot relics.He thinks he senses one buried in the Arctic.What he finds was certainly lost long ago, but it's no artifact.





	Reunited

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thirsty4percy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirsty4percy/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for my wife, @thirsty4percy! Only a day and a half late!

“Once I’ve found this ancient Autobot weapon, even Megatron will have to fear me,” Starscream cackles to himself. The smug satisfaction of succeeding in his scheme is all that’s keeping him warm in the freezing Arctic wind. He tilts his wings to bring him around in a slow circle over the spot that’s setting off all his sensors. The Harbinger might be a derelict wreck, but it has enough juice to at least run the scanners. He gives it one more pass just to make sure no one is hiding to ambush him among the drifts. He doesn’t see any trace of anyone, so he risks coming in for a landing.

Still no one.

Starscream allows himself to relax ever so slightly. He’s alone. He crouches down in the snow to try and determine where exactly to begin looking. It’s going to be buried under the ice, of course. Hopefully not too far. His wings are already shivering.

“Only ancient Autobots would be cruel enough to hide something in this pit,” he grumbles. The cold is terrible and his wings are starting to quiver with more than cold. He hates the cold, and not only because it slows his systems. With all the cold has taken from him, he has the right to hate it. But still, the matter at hand requires his full attention. Once he’s figured out exactly where the signal is strongest, he has to figure out how far down into the ice it is.

“Must be pretty far down or even the humans would have already found it. Likely it’s safe enough to risk a blast...” 

It’s also probably necessary. The cold here is enough to bite at his exposed wiring with even the brief time he’s spent in it, and he’s long rid himself of the modifications that would allow him to endure this cold for long periods. It hadn’t been necessary after...right. Full attention on the current task.

Starscream considers the ice for one more moment before lifting his arm and firing two carefully targeted blasts at the ice. It cracks and then crumbles into a pit. He takes a moment to admire his work.

“Perfectly calculated, of course.”

He hops down into the pit, using his thrusters to slow his descent. He touches down lightly, wings still pricked for any sign of anyone else approaching. Still no one. Good.

“Now to find that artifact...” Starscream crouches down to scrape at the snow. According to his sensors, it should be right here--hah! His talons strike something metallic.

Starscream carefully clears the snow with the palm of his hands, careful not to gouge whatever it is. It could be delicate, or broken from its years of being frozen. A few minutes of work reveals a white, metallic expanse. A large white expanse. What in Primus’ name...? Starscream continues excavating, but more slowly. What kind of weapon could this be? Some more digging reveals...a nosecone? Starscream sits back on his heels.

“This can’t be...it wasn’t this mudhole, was it? Surely not...” Still, Starscream’s digging takes on a renewed urgency. A deep blue cockpit appears and Starscream has to stop. This can’t be. It’s not possible. But he would know this cockpit anywhere. And if his sensors pinged Cybertronian energy here, then...

“He’s been alive all this time,” Starscream whispers in horror. Alone, unwatched, Starscream abandons all pretense of dignity and claws at the ice, gouging chunks out and tossing them aside. 

“Skyfire, you foolish, reckless...only you would have been so fascinated by an organic world’s weather patterns...” Starscream continues to berate the silent frame even as he digs feverishly to free it. “You shouldn’t even be online. Did you really have that much extra plating? Just because you’re rated for deep space travel...” Starscream’s claws rattle against the plating he’s trying so hard to excavate. Primus, what’s he even going to do once Skyfire is free? He has no spare fuel, no medical tools or expertise.

“Just another problem for later,” he says briskly to the air. He shivers. The cold air. Skyfire might be able to survive this long term, but Starscream isn’t. Not anymore. He twitches his wings to dispel the frost settling on them.

“Only you could be so inconvenient without even being conscious,” Starscream complains to Skyfire’s still frame as he begins to carefully excavate Skyfire’s thrusters. Once those are clear, Starscream sits back on his heels. He’s free. Well. He’s unburied anyway.

“Now what?” Starscream asks the air. He certainly can’t move Skyfire himself. Skyfire needs a medic. Which Starscream isn’t. 

“Now you step away from that injured mech, Starscream.” 

Starscream’s wings twitch up in surprise. Primus. He’d been too focused on Skyfire. He hadn’t heard the Autobots sneaking up on him. Now he looks up to the edge of the pit to see the angry two-wheeler, who had been the one speaking; the big green Wrecker, and the Prime himself. Starscream’s wings rattle anxiously.

“Set down your weapons, Starscream. There is no need for violence today,” Prime says with that strange gravity he always has. Starscream considers. How long have the Autobots been here? How much do they know? Did Prime ever hear about that downed shuttle scientist before the war? Even if he did, would he remember?

“He must be a good friend of yours,” Prime continues, “that you would risk the cold to come save him. He is clearly in need of medical care. Lay down your weapons and we can talk.” Starscream now really has to consider. Prime might be overly noble, but he’s not stupid. And that two-wheeler is ruthless. Now that Prime has indicated Skyfire as a potential weakness, he’s vulnerable.

“And you’re just offering free medical care and fuel out of the goodness of your sparks? What do you get out of this little arrangement?” Starscream sneers and derisively flicks his wings back.

“Another of our kind healthy and whole,” Prime replies, as if it could possibly be that simple, that easy.

“Optimus, we have no idea who that is!” The two-wheeler protests. “We can’t just give the Decepticons another soldier!” 

“Yeah, Optimus, I know there aren’t too many of us left, but this doesn’t feel like a good idea,” the Wrecker adds tentatively.

“We have an obligation to help those that we can. This mech has clearly been trapped for some time. He bears no faction symbols anywhere on his wings.” Prime gestures broadly to Skyfire.

Starscream wants to object, but it’s true. It’s still dangerous to trust the Autobots, but it doesn’t feel that he really has a choice. The familiar sound of an opening groundbridge jolts him from his thoughts. If the Decepticons are here too...

“Yes, yes fine. Peace and goodwill and all that prattle. I’ll go with you if you’ll also take him.” Starscream gestures to Skyfire, unable to say his name in front of the Autobots. It feels like he’d be revealing a weakness if he did. 

“What, now that the ‘Cons are coming he gives up? This is some kind of trick!” The Wrecker protests. Starscream can hear the sound of gunfire up above. Being grounded at the bottom of a pit during a fight is very close to a worst-case scenario. If he took off now, he could probably get away, but Skyfire would be left here. Vulnerable. If the Autobots win, he might be repaired. If the Decepticons win, Starscream has no idea what would happen to Skyfire.

Being a flier means making snap decisions and sticking to them. No room for doubt at ten thousand feet up. Starscream leaps into the air and transforms, blasting out of the pit with a scream of his engines. For Skyfire to be safe, Starscream has to make sure the Autobots take him. So the Autobots, regretfully, have to live.

Skyfire owes him for this. 

He sends himself into a dizzying spin, fast enough that he’s more of a blur than a mech as he swoops low over the Vehicons. Starscream almost feels bad for them. He narrowly dodges a shot from the two-wheeler that’s just low enough for plausible deniability. Primus, he might have to reconsider his options, few as they are.

Starscream’s flying is certainly enough to scatter some Vehicons, but even he has to pull up sharply when the Decepticon groundbridge reopens and spits out another flier moving at high speed. Slag it all to the Pit, it’s Soundwave. Starscream curses as Soundwave sets course directly for him, guns blazing. Starscream knows he’s the better flier, but Soundwave is no slouch, and neither is that blasted symbiote who’s detaching from Soundwave’s undercarriage. Right. Up they go. Starscream shoots upwards, taking the fight out of range of the guns on the ground and forcing Soundwave to give chase. Soundwave obliges. Laserbeak, however, is nowhere to be seen. He might be off harassing the Autobots, or he’s lurking waiting for Starscream to lose focus. He has no way of knowing.

Starscream and Soundwave chase each other through the clouds. In another life, Starscream might have been playing chase with Skyfire across this sky. Now this flight is deadly serious. Starscream knows he can outfly Soundwave. Soundwave might have wings, but Starscream was sparked to fly. He just has to wait for...there it is. One perfect shot and Soundwave is pulling back with a smoking wing. Starscream doesn’t have a moment to celebrate, though. A sharp pain in his thruster announces Laserbeak’s arrival to defend his host. Starscream swings around to try and catch the pesky little spy, but Laserbeak has already soared off after his creator. A groundbridge opens up and both Soundwave and Laserbeak vanish. Starscream fires a couple shots after them just to be petty. Now to check on the Autobots, and more importantly, Skyfire. 

He comes in for a landing, transforming and touching down without really thinking about it. The pain that shoots through his foot quickly reminds him. He hisses and falls to one knee. It’s fallen quiet and no one is attacking him. The Autobots must have won. He looks up to confirm his theory. Yes, there stands Optimus Prime, with the gall to look fairly unaffected by the struggle. The two-wheeler and the Wrecker at least have the decency to look scraped up.

“There, have I proven enough of my loyalty yet?” Starscream asks.

“You’re loyal to nothing and no one!” The two-wheeler snaps. Starscream gives her his most innocent face. Prime ignores their antics.

“Starscream, you have risked a great deal in turning on the Decepticons,” he says, as if Starscream hadn’t already been hiding from them. “However, in order to ensure the security of our base, you will be put in stasis cuffs and remain confined until we can...guarantee your further cooperation.”

Starscream bristles. “You’re treating me like a common prisoner! Next you’ll be asking to remove my t-cog!” He quickly closes his mouth and hopes he hasn’t given Prime any ideas.

“You have in the past been less than trustworthy. These are the conditions if you plan on returning with us and receiving care for yourself and your friend,” Prime finishes and waits for an answer with that damnable patience of his.

“Fine!” Starscream huffs. Skyfire does need care, and the Autobots aren’t complete fools. He shouldn’t have expected any better. “But I’m going to be present while your medic works on Skyfire.”

“That is a reasonable request,” Prime nods gravely. “However, as previously stated you will be in cuffs.” He sounds so serene. Starscream wants to smack him.

Starscream considers arguing further, but his foot hurts and the Arctic cold is setting in. Plus, Skyfire really does need the help.

“Fine. If I must.”

Optimus seems entirely unfazed by Starscream’s answer. “Arcee, if you would, please cuff Starscream.”

Now Starscream considers objecting all over again because he certainly doesn’t trust the two-wheeler not to kill him while he’s cuffed. The look on the femme’s face could almost kill all on its own. She produces a pair of stasis cuffs from her subspace and none-too-gently grabs Starscream’s wrists to cuff him.

“Don’t think just because Optimus is letting you come I’m not going to have my eye on you. One wrong move, and I’ll slag you and your friend myself,” she whispers fiercely as the cuffs definitively click shut. Starscream swallows his instinctive first response. And his second. And his third.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he settles for saying.

“You’d better.” The two-wheeler grabs the cuffs and uses them to pull Starscream forward. He stumbles trying to follow without putting weight on his injured thruster, but she doesn’t look back as the Autobot groundbridge opens.

“What about Skyfire?” Starscream asks, glancing down into the pit.

“Ratchet is transporting us back and then opening another groundbridge below so we can move your companion without having to lift him out,” Prime says calmly. Starscream wavers. This could be a trap, but surely noble and honorable Optimus Prime wouldn’t do such a thing. 

“Alright, fine.” Starscream lets himself be led through the groundbridge, where he’s greeted with a gun to the face from the mute scout.

“Bumblebee, stand down. Starscream is secured,” Prime says calmly. He says everything calmly, blast him. Starscream bristles at being so easily dismissed as a threat. He could still do plenty of damage if he wished. He’s simply playing along for now. He glances around the room to try and ignore the less-than-subtle glares he’s getting from every Autobot but the Prime. Even the medic looks like he’d rather slay Starscream than repair him. 

“Human technology. How quaint,” Starscream says as his optics land on the Autobot computer. The medic bristles, clearly opening his mouth to retort, but the Prime intervenes before Starscream can have any fun at all.

“Ratchet, we require a groundbridge back to retrieve your patient. Arcee will remain to monitor Starscream.” 

The medic scowls, but obeys. Prime, the Wrecker, and the scout all depart through the new groundbridge. Starscream’s wings prick up as he watches them go. They’re bringing Skyfire here.

Skyfire is alive.

With the immediate danger gone, Starscream actually has time to let that sink in.

Skyfire is alive and he’s coming here.

Starscream’s legs suddenly feel weak.

“Alright, you.” Starscream is forced out of his reverie by the medic’s voice. “Optimus told me you insisted on being in my way while I work. You’re going to sit there,” he points to a small chair near-ish the medical station., “and Primus help you if you move from that spot before I say you can.”

“You’re too kind, doctor,” Starscream drawls. He hobbles over to the chair and obediently sits, his legs primly crossed at the ankle and his wings politely folded back. “Is this acceptable, or shall I endeavor to take up less space?”

The medic rolls his eyes in response. The two-wheeler’s engine growls. Starscream is starting to mentally debate the danger vs entertainment value of needling them when the medic clearly gets a comm and goes over to the groundbridge controls. Starscream sits up a little straighter. This is it. Skyfire is coming.

Skyfire’s nosecone is the first thing visible. Clearly the Autobots figured out how to extend Skyfire’s landing gear so they don’t have to lift him. The medic seems taken aback.

“He’s massive! Where is he supposed to go in this base? We don’t have space for him!”

“He mass shifts when he transforms,” Starscream contributes helpfully as the groundbridge closes. “he takes up less space in root mode.” The medic glowers at him, but clearly can’t complain about the information given. 

“Well before I can get in there to manually transform him, he needs to be thawed. There’s no getting anything open like this.” The medic gently raps his knuckles on Skyfire’s chassis. “I’m going to need every blanket and tarp in the base. Let’s get him warmed.”

Starscream watches in some surprise as the Prime himself goes to obey, as do the scout and the Wrecker. The two-wheeler remains to keep a hostile eye on him. Fairly quickly, blankets begin appearing. The medic begins draping them around Skyfire, even tying them around his belly with ties so he’s completely encased. Starscream almost has to contain a giggle once Skyfire is completely swathed in blankets, with only the tips of his wings peeking out.

“There,” the medic sounds satisfied, “that should start to help. It’ll still take awhile. Some form of radiant heat would be helpful, but we might just have to wait.”

“Wait, you’re done?” Starscream demands incredulously.

“He needs to warm up. However long he’s been in stasis, a bit longer shouldn’t hurt him now.” 

“So if we’re just waiting now, you’re getting locked up,” the two-wheeler says with some satisfaction. “Get up.” 

Starscream obeys, his injured foot dragging a little. “My apologies if I’m inconveniently slow with my injury acquired defending you.”

“Shut it.” She pushes him forward and he can very distinctly feel a gun pressed between his wings. Starscream gives the rest of the Autobots his most pitiful look.

“This is how the Autobots treat someone so grievously wounded fighting for them?”

“You got hurt ‘cause you wanted something from us. Nice try,” the Wrecker rumbles.

Starscream considers pushing his luck, but the gun is starting to feel increasingly impatient. He sighs in a most put upon fashion and lets himself be shoved along. Without the distraction of Skyfire’s presence and in the darkened hallways, Starscream is suddenly acutely aware of the weight of the halls pressing in around him. This base is clearly underground, and dark, and confined. 

“In you go.” A door opens in front of them and there’s a sharp shove. Starscream stumbles into the room, hissing as he’s forced to put weight on his injured thruster or fall.

“If I’m sitting in here, do I at least get these cuffs off?” Starscream holds up his bound arms.

“You’ve still got all those weapons built in. They’re staying on.” Starscream opens his mouth to object, but the door slams shut before he can. Starscream is left in the dark. Underground. Alone. Confined. He screeches out of pure spite, just to make his displeasure known. His wings begin twitching immediately, trying to sense how deep underground he is. He has to force them stop. While it might be valuable information, the data he’s receiving is about to make him panic.

Starscream huffs, just because he can, and settles himself on the floor. There isn’t even a berth in this glorified storage closet. He props his foot on the opposite knee so he can examine the damage. Not crippling, certainly, but painful. He pokes at it with one finger and hisses. Certainly painful. Without tools, there’s nothing much he can do.

“So much for the honorable Autobots,” he gripes aloud, though honestly to do any less would be foolish. 

But Skyfire is here. Going to be here. Primus, it’s been a long time. Longer than the length of the entire war. Will Skyfire even recognize him? When Skyfire knew Starscream, Starscream was blockier, less optimized for speed and power and more for extended flight in and out of atmosphere. His colors were lighter, whites and blues and reds instead of low maintenance grays and silvers. Even his hands are different. He sighs and curls his knees up to his chest, leaning forward to rest his forehead against his knees. Maybe he can try and recharge.

It doesn’t work. Or it does, but it’s not a restful recharge. He just keeps thinking about Skyfire, wondering whether or not he’ll even be recognized, much less be well-received. Primus, what’s he going to do if Skyfire doesn’t want to talk to him again? Or if Skyfire doesn’t remember him? He sighs. There’s nothing he can do about it now. He passes the time in an uncomfortable doze until he hears footsteps approaching and lets his wings perk up. Heavy steps. The Wrecker. 

“Hey, Doc’s about to start workin’ on your friend. Optimus sent me to come get you.” He opens the door and steps back. He’s certainly ready to strike, though, eyes fixed on Starscream and hand transformed into its menacing club. Starscream is all too happy to get out of his cell and lets himself be bulled down the hall, still cuffed and dragging his injured foot. Upon reaching the main room, Starscream is pleased to see the medic carefully unwrapping Skyfire from the mass of blankets.

“He’s thawed out?” Starscream asks in lieu of a greeting. The medic scowls at him. 

“Seems like it. Now be quiet so I can focus.” 

The medic returns to examining Skyfire and Starscream obediently falls quiet so as not to distract him. Needling Autobots is entertaining, but not at the expense of Skyfire’s well-being. Starscream reclaims the seat that’s still set there for him and risks a subtle glance around the room. Prime is the only other Autobot present, and he’s quietly working on something at the main terminal.

“Hah, there it is...” the medic says, sounding pleased. Starscream hurriedly turns back just in time to see him removing a bit of plating off Skyfire’s side and reaching into him. “Alright, everyone, stand clear,” he says, as if they aren’t all already comfortably at a distance. He does something that Starscream can’t see and all of Skyfire’s plating shudders.  
The medic pulls his hand free and steps back just in time. Skyfire’s plating shudders once more and then he’s transforming before Starscream’s delighted optics. Skyfire is still in stasis, optics dark, but he’s Skyfire with the same bright plating and handsome face. Luckily, Skyfire is also significantly smaller as a mech than as a shuttle. 

“Bulkhead, Optimus, get him up on the berth,” the medic orders. Skyfire being smaller as a mech doesn’t exactly make him small. He’s still larger than the Prime in both height and breadth. Starscream, being a good and obedient prisoner, is unable to get up from his seat to help. As soon as Skyfire is settled on the berth, the medic is back to fuss over him. He hooks up a fuel drip and starts doing something Starscream can’t recognize.

“What are you doing to him?” Starscream demands. 

“He’s clearly been under the ice for awhile. He needs routine maintenance and minor damages repaired. I might as well try to do that while he’s still unconscious.” The medic doesn’t even look up as he speaks. “He doesn’t seem to have any weapons built in, so that’s one less thing to be worked on.”

“Well, he has been under the ice for quite some time,” Starscream says, optics locked on Ratchet’s moving hands.

“Yeah, but no one’s walked around without anything built in since before the war started!” The Wrecker sounds genuinely mystified. “He’s big and all, but he still needs a gun or something!”

“Unless he never saw the war,” the Prime says with that same deep gravity. “I seem to remember an incident shortly after my ascent to the Primacy. A scientist went missing on an exploratory mission in deep space. His partner returned in disgrace and was barred from the Academy. It was assumed that the missing scientist had died, and so no rescue attempts were made.” 

Starscream has to bite his tongue to stay quiet through the Prime’s speech, but the mention of the lack of rescue attempts, the pain and humiliation of being forced out alone and in disgrace...he can’t contain himself.

“I knew he was alive! I knew we could have found him! But you wouldn’t intervene! No one would believe me!” Starscream screeches, rising to his feet and letting his wings spread to their full span. “I had to leave him here to rust because you wouldn’t step in! You were the Prime, and you wouldn’t even see me!” Starscream’s voice reaches a painful pitch that has the Wrecker clapping hands over his audials. The Prime, infuriatingly, seems unfazed as ever.

“I owe you an apology, Starscream. I let other matters consume my attention and did not intervene when perhaps I should have.” Prime holds his hands out, palms up, in a gesture of appeasement.

“’Perhaps?’ There is no perhaps, Prime. You left him to die, and I watched the Senate burn in revenge.” Starscream flexes his claws and considers taking a swipe at Prime. The Wrecker seems to be reading him, though, and Starscream has a feeling that any aggression on his end is going to be met with an equally violent response. Prime doesn’t look angry, though. He just seems sad. Starscream hisses. Prime can be sad all he wants. Starscream did his crying centuries ago. 

“If you two are done, I’d like to try and bring him online and I doubt he’s going to enjoy waking up to all this,” the medic snaps. Starscream’s wings immediately fall from their aggressive angle.

“You can bring him online already?”

“He’s low on fuel, and he’s a little scuffed up, but if it’ll stop your screeching, there’s no reason he can’t be online,” the medic explains. “Don’t stress him, though. Now is not the time to give him a full history of the war. Do all of you understand?” Starscream is surprised to note that he isn’t the only one on the receiving end of the medic’s glare.

“Of course, Ratchet,” Prime says soothingly. “We trust your judgment in all medical matters.” 

“Uncuff me.” Starscream holds out his bound hands. 

“Why should we?” The Wrecker demands.

“Skyfire is going to be distressed if he wakes up to see me in handcuffs. If we’re not supposed to stress him, I shouldn’t be in cuffs.” Starscream looks to the Prime for his approval. The large mech stands in silence for a long moment before he nods.

“Very well. Bulkhead, I believe Arcee gave you her keys?” 

Starscream holds his hands out instead to the Wrecker, wiggling his fingers impatiently. 

“Optimus, this isn’t a good idea...”

“Bulkhead, release him.” The Prime’s voice is firmer, and the green mech sighs.

“Yeah. Okay.” He takes hold of Starscream’s cuffs and fishes the key out of his subspace with clumsy fingers. Starscream half expects him to drop it, but he successfully opens the cuffs. 

“There. Now you can bring Skyfire online.” Starscream turns to the medic eagerly.

“Yes, alright.” The medic seems to be placated enough to get him to stop complaining. He reaches his fingers under Skyfire’s jaw and gets them under the thin plating there. He flicks something and steps back.

Starscream thinks his spark might extinguish as soon as he sees the bright blue of Skyfire’s optics. He could never forget that blue. Not if he lived for a hundred millennia. He limps over to the berth and if any of the Autobots try to pull him away he’ll claw their sparks out with his bare hands. Luckily, none of them seem inclined to intervene.

“Skyfire.” Starscream leans over Skyfire, wings twitching nervously. What if all that time in the ice has corrupted his memory banks? What if after all this, Skyfire doesn’t recognize him? Primus, he’s changed his plating and his colors. Skyfire shouldn’t recognize him.

“Star?” Skyfire looks confused, but Primus he’s using his old nickname for Starscream. “Why did you change your colors?” He reaches up and gently touches Starscream’s face. “I almost didn’t recognize you, but I would always know those optics.” Skyfire smiles up at Starscream, but it immediately turns to a look of concern. “Star, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Crying? He’s crying. Real big tears that roll down his cheeks and over his chin. Skyfire tries to sit up, but the medic is immediately there and pushing him to lay back. 

“You should be laying down. You need rest,” the medic says, voice firm but not harsh. “What do you remember about what happened?” 

“Just...exploring with Starscream. There was a storm, and I was blown off course and crashed. That’s all I remember.” Skyfire’s brow furrows as he thinks. Primus, he’s just like Starscream remembered. “Is there something else I should be remembering?”

“No, Sky. That was perfect.” Starscream leans down and kisses Skyfire’s cheek. The smile it earns him is breathtaking.

“Well, your memory is at least primarily intact. Your physical damage is minor as well. You are a very lucky mech,” the medic says quite sincerely.

“Thank you for your help, Doctor...” Skyfire trails off a little awkwardly.

“Ratchet. My name is Ratchet,” Ratchet smiles. Skyfire’s optics light up.

“Doctor Ratchet? Of Iacon Hospital? It’s an honor! I’ve read all your work, particularly your collaboration with Doctor Pharma about fliers’ systems--” Skyfire cuts himself off at the haunted look on Ratchet’s face. “Doctor? I apologize, did I say something wrong?” Skyfire looks up to Starscream, who manages a smile.

“You didn’t, Sky. I promise. It’s just...been awhile. I’ll explain it all, but let me just enjoy having you here for a moment, alright?”

Skyfire still seems concerned, but he nods. “It seems like I have a fair amount to catch up on.”

“You do, Sky. But later. I promise.” Starscream leans down to kiss Skyfire’s cheek again and is surprised when Skyfire turns his head to catch him in a real kiss.

“Don’t worry, Star,” Skyfire says when he finally breaks the kiss, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re acting like I’m going to just disappear into thin air. I won’t. I promise.”

“No, you won’t because I won’t let you,” Starscream agrees, “Not ever again.”

Skyfire laughs and a tiny part of Starscream’s spark feels whole again.

“I love you, Sky,” Starscream whispers so only Skyfire can hear him.

“I love you too, my Star.” Skyfire yawns. “Doctor Ratchet is right, though, I do need rest.”

“That’s fine. I won’t leave.” Starscream considers for a moment and then, acutely aware of Prime’s heavy gaze on his back, clambers up onto the berth to lay against Skyfire’s side where he belongs.

He’s going to have to explain everything eventually. Skyfire has the right and the need to know. But not yet. For now, Starscream can just pretend that he’s still a scientist, that the war never happened, that Skyfire was returned to him the way he should have been all those years ago.

His Skyfire, back and safe again.

Right where he should be.


End file.
